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The familiar crackle of the police radio woke Bob Speedman from his deep slumber, “Robbery in progress, 184 Jackson Street”. That was just around the corner! He retracted his claws and dropped to the ground, and slowly made his way to the wardrobe to don his cape. He gave a large yawn as he made his way to the window, and looked up to the beams above, wishing to return to them for a few more hours sleep. But he had to use his powers for good, the hardships of his life to date, all of the injustices he’d suffered – now he had the power to do something about it.
Using his strong claws he climbed along the walls of the building. As he approached the corner he arched his neck to peer round. A car was parked across the pavement at an awkward angle, and the broken glass glistened in the moonlight outside of the jeweller’s. Bob continued towards the store, and was only a few doors away when Orangutan-Man swung into action.
It was fine summer day, almost perfect for a date at the zoo with his beloved Claire, but he’d been left holding the peanuts when she told him there was someone else. And as he stood leaning on the bars, unable to stop the tears flowing down his face, he barely noticed the purple flash in the sky. He stood motionless as thick, gooey raindrops fell on him, and it wasn’t until a sharp pain arched through his body that he became aware of the panic around him. Humans and animals wailed in agony. A thud brought Bob’s attention back to the cage in front of him. A sloth had fallen from the tree to which it had clung. As their eyes met Bob grabbed his head, it suddenly felt overfull, his brain pulsing, trying to escape from his skull. The sloth was crying out in agony too, tears could be seen streaming down its face. Bob reached out compelled to touch the beast, and as hand touched paw, he blacked out.
The city was awash with heroes, and yet again The Human Sloth was too late to make a difference. Orangutan-Man swung his long arms and knocked the crooks down, just as wailing sirens announced the police’s arrival onsite. A press photographer turned up just after the cops had cuffed the crooks and flung them back of the car, and took a few shots, the cops shaking hands with Orangutan-Man, or holding his big ginger arms up in victory.
Bob closed in just as Orangutan-Man bounded away to the cheers of the small crowd that had gathered. But after the police took the criminals away, they dispersed, leaving the old shop-keeper onsite to clear up by himself. Bright jewels sparkled in their cases. Bob edged into the store. The shop-keeper dragged a large board from the back-room and held it over the window. It just about met the wooden frame. He nodded his head, laid it down then headed into the back-room again. Bob was unconsciously moving ever closer to the jewels, and could hear the shop-keeper looking through various drawers, then he picked up the phone. “Hey, do we got any nails?”, “the big drawer? I already looked in there,” “Right at the back, you say? Okay, thanks” And as the old man continued to look. Bob suddenly found that the jewels were in his hand.
He’d had enough of the disappointment. If his new found powers left his too slow to serve good, maybe they’d be better used for evil. He could bide his time, choose his targets and no longer have to follow orders of a police radio.
He gathered more jewels, cradled them in his arms. The shop-keeper entered the room again, box of nails under his arm. Instinctively The Human Sloth lashed out, clawing deep gashes into the old man’s throat. He fell to the floor, clutching his neck, choking on gargled screams.
Bob longed for sleep, but he couldn’t be found there. He climbed out of the broken window, climbing slowly around the corner, and back into his apartment. He dropped the jewels onto the bed, and climbed up into the beams to sleep.
Using his strong claws he climbed along the walls of the building. As he approached the corner he arched his neck to peer round. A car was parked across the pavement at an awkward angle, and the broken glass glistened in the moonlight outside of the jeweller’s. Bob continued towards the store, and was only a few doors away when Orangutan-Man swung into action.
It was fine summer day, almost perfect for a date at the zoo with his beloved Claire, but he’d been left holding the peanuts when she told him there was someone else. And as he stood leaning on the bars, unable to stop the tears flowing down his face, he barely noticed the purple flash in the sky. He stood motionless as thick, gooey raindrops fell on him, and it wasn’t until a sharp pain arched through his body that he became aware of the panic around him. Humans and animals wailed in agony. A thud brought Bob’s attention back to the cage in front of him. A sloth had fallen from the tree to which it had clung. As their eyes met Bob grabbed his head, it suddenly felt overfull, his brain pulsing, trying to escape from his skull. The sloth was crying out in agony too, tears could be seen streaming down its face. Bob reached out compelled to touch the beast, and as hand touched paw, he blacked out.
The city was awash with heroes, and yet again The Human Sloth was too late to make a difference. Orangutan-Man swung his long arms and knocked the crooks down, just as wailing sirens announced the police’s arrival onsite. A press photographer turned up just after the cops had cuffed the crooks and flung them back of the car, and took a few shots, the cops shaking hands with Orangutan-Man, or holding his big ginger arms up in victory.
Bob closed in just as Orangutan-Man bounded away to the cheers of the small crowd that had gathered. But after the police took the criminals away, they dispersed, leaving the old shop-keeper onsite to clear up by himself. Bright jewels sparkled in their cases. Bob edged into the store. The shop-keeper dragged a large board from the back-room and held it over the window. It just about met the wooden frame. He nodded his head, laid it down then headed into the back-room again. Bob was unconsciously moving ever closer to the jewels, and could hear the shop-keeper looking through various drawers, then he picked up the phone. “Hey, do we got any nails?”, “the big drawer? I already looked in there,” “Right at the back, you say? Okay, thanks” And as the old man continued to look. Bob suddenly found that the jewels were in his hand.
He’d had enough of the disappointment. If his new found powers left his too slow to serve good, maybe they’d be better used for evil. He could bide his time, choose his targets and no longer have to follow orders of a police radio.
He gathered more jewels, cradled them in his arms. The shop-keeper entered the room again, box of nails under his arm. Instinctively The Human Sloth lashed out, clawing deep gashes into the old man’s throat. He fell to the floor, clutching his neck, choking on gargled screams.
Bob longed for sleep, but he couldn’t be found there. He climbed out of the broken window, climbing slowly around the corner, and back into his apartment. He dropped the jewels onto the bed, and climbed up into the beams to sleep.
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The familiar crackle of the police radio woke Bob Speedman from his deep slumber, “Robbery in progress, 184 Jackson Street”. That was just around the corner! He retracted his claws and dropped to the ground, and slowly made his way to the wardrobe to don his cape. He gave a large yawn as he made his way to the window, and looked up to the beams above, wishing to return to them for a few more hours sleep. But he had to use his powers for good, the hardships of his life to date, all of the injustices he’d suffered – now he had the power to do something about it.
Using his strong claws he climbed along the walls of the building. As he approached the corner he arched his neck to peer round. A car was parked across the pavement at an awkward angle, and the broken glass glistened in the moonlight outside of the jeweller’s. Bob continued towards the store, and was only a few doors away when Orangutan-Man swung into action.
It was fine summer day, almost perfect for a date at the zoo with his beloved Claire, but he’d been left holding the peanuts when she told him there was someone else. And as he stood leaning on the bars, unable to stop the tears flowing down his face, he barely noticed the purple flash in the sky. He stood motionless as thick, gooey raindrops fell on him, and it wasn’t until a sharp pain arched through his body that he became aware of the panic around him. Humans and animals wailed in agony. A thud brought Bob’s attention back to the cage in front of him. A sloth had fallen from the tree to which it had clung. As their eyes met Bob grabbed his head, it suddenly felt overfull, his brain pulsing, trying to escape from his skull. The sloth was crying out in agony too, tears could be seen streaming down its face. Bob reached out compelled to touch the beast, and as hand touched paw, he blacked out.
The city was awash with heroes, and yet again The Human Sloth was too late to make a difference. Orangutan-Man swung his long arms and knocked the crooks down, just as wailing sirens announced the police’s arrival onsite. A press photographer turned up just after the cops had cuffed the crooks and flung them back of the car, and took a few shots, the cops shaking hands with Orangutan-Man, or holding his big ginger arms up in victory.
Bob closed in just as Orangutan-Man bounded away to the cheers of the small crowd that had gathered. But after the police took the criminals away, they dispersed, leaving the old shop-keeper onsite to clear up by himself. Bright jewels sparkled in their cases. Bob edged into the store. The shop-keeper dragged a large board from the back-room and held it over the window. It just about met the wooden frame. He nodded his head, laid it down then headed into the back-room again. Bob was unconsciously moving ever closer to the jewels, and could hear the shop-keeper looking through various drawers, then he picked up the phone. “Hey, do we got any nails?”, “the big drawer? I already looked in there,” “Right at the back, you say? Okay, thanks” And as the old man continued to look. Bob suddenly found that the jewels were in his hand.
He’d had enough of the disappointment. If his new found powers left his too slow to serve good, maybe they’d be better used for evil. He could bide his time, choose his targets and no longer have to follow orders of a police radio.
He gathered more jewels, cradled them in his arms. The shop-keeper entered the room again, box of nails under his arm. Instinctively The Human Sloth lashed out, clawing deep gashes into the old man’s throat. He fell to the floor, clutching his neck, choking on gargled screams.
Bob longed for sleep, but he couldn’t be found there. He climbed out of the broken window, climbing slowly around the corner, and back into his apartment. He dropped the jewels onto the bed, and climbed up into the beams to sleep.
Using his strong claws he climbed along the walls of the building. As he approached the corner he arched his neck to peer round. A car was parked across the pavement at an awkward angle, and the broken glass glistened in the moonlight outside of the jeweller’s. Bob continued towards the store, and was only a few doors away when Orangutan-Man swung into action.
It was fine summer day, almost perfect for a date at the zoo with his beloved Claire, but he’d been left holding the peanuts when she told him there was someone else. And as he stood leaning on the bars, unable to stop the tears flowing down his face, he barely noticed the purple flash in the sky. He stood motionless as thick, gooey raindrops fell on him, and it wasn’t until a sharp pain arched through his body that he became aware of the panic around him. Humans and animals wailed in agony. A thud brought Bob’s attention back to the cage in front of him. A sloth had fallen from the tree to which it had clung. As their eyes met Bob grabbed his head, it suddenly felt overfull, his brain pulsing, trying to escape from his skull. The sloth was crying out in agony too, tears could be seen streaming down its face. Bob reached out compelled to touch the beast, and as hand touched paw, he blacked out.
The city was awash with heroes, and yet again The Human Sloth was too late to make a difference. Orangutan-Man swung his long arms and knocked the crooks down, just as wailing sirens announced the police’s arrival onsite. A press photographer turned up just after the cops had cuffed the crooks and flung them back of the car, and took a few shots, the cops shaking hands with Orangutan-Man, or holding his big ginger arms up in victory.
Bob closed in just as Orangutan-Man bounded away to the cheers of the small crowd that had gathered. But after the police took the criminals away, they dispersed, leaving the old shop-keeper onsite to clear up by himself. Bright jewels sparkled in their cases. Bob edged into the store. The shop-keeper dragged a large board from the back-room and held it over the window. It just about met the wooden frame. He nodded his head, laid it down then headed into the back-room again. Bob was unconsciously moving ever closer to the jewels, and could hear the shop-keeper looking through various drawers, then he picked up the phone. “Hey, do we got any nails?”, “the big drawer? I already looked in there,” “Right at the back, you say? Okay, thanks” And as the old man continued to look. Bob suddenly found that the jewels were in his hand.
He’d had enough of the disappointment. If his new found powers left his too slow to serve good, maybe they’d be better used for evil. He could bide his time, choose his targets and no longer have to follow orders of a police radio.
He gathered more jewels, cradled them in his arms. The shop-keeper entered the room again, box of nails under his arm. Instinctively The Human Sloth lashed out, clawing deep gashes into the old man’s throat. He fell to the floor, clutching his neck, choking on gargled screams.
Bob longed for sleep, but he couldn’t be found there. He climbed out of the broken window, climbing slowly around the corner, and back into his apartment. He dropped the jewels onto the bed, and climbed up into the beams to sleep.